


Thank Heaven for Little Girls

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-14
Updated: 2010-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-11 02:31:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winry was always there to pick up the pieces for Edward.  Now it's his turn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank Heaven for Little Girls

**Author's Note:**

> A.N.: Spoilers pretty much through at least chapter 74 of the manga. Speculation for the end of the series.
> 
> Much thanks to D. M. Evans for the edits, commentary and handholding. Written for Svmadelyn's Fourth Annual Kink/Cliché Extravaganza, with my prompt being: Childlike characteristics (innocence and simplicity; trustingness; truth-speaking, playfulness; boyishness and mischievousness; wounded child characters; orphans).
> 
> Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa.

* * *

"Ed? Ed, c'mon, wake up!" His bed bucked a little at the weight added to it, the jostling doing more to rouse him than the sound of his name. "Ed!" Hands pushed at his shoulder insistently.

Throwing his forearm over his eyes, Edward whined, "What, Winry? Can't I sleep for a little while longer?"

"No!" The imperious tone to her voice made his shoulders jerk reflexively. "Get up, Ed, get up! Granny said you'd take me swimming."

Sitting up abruptly, Edward glared at the girl on his bed. "Swimming? Oh, hell, no."

Winry folded her arms, pouting. "Why not?" Her blue eyes narrowed sharply as she added, "Don't say words like that! It's not nice."

"Winry," Edward said, almost patiently, "I don't know what that old hag told you but I can't take you swimming today." He winced at her protest of, 'But Granny said!', not letting her finish that statement. "First, I can't swim. Not with these." He patted his automail arm and leg in emphasis. "I sink, remember? Second, the doctor is supposed to come see Al and I should be there for that, shouldn't I?"

"Awww." Ducking her head, Winry hid behind her bangs, her lower lip still jutting out.

Edward reached over, tousling her hair gently. "Tell you what, if the doctor gets finished talking to me early enough, I'll take you to the river. But no swimming, okay? I can't help you out in the water if something happens." Smoothing his hand down her cheek, he tipped her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. "You can wade." At her little huff, he gave in. "I'll wade with you. Is that good enough?"

"Yeah." Winry giggled, her bad mood evaporating. "Thanks, Ed." She flung her arms around him, hugging him tight, her chin digging into his shoulder. "I love you!" Letting go just as abruptly, she bounced off his bed, running out of his room, slamming the door behind her.

With a bittersweet smile, Ed stared at the door as it slowly swung open again, the latch not catching with Winry's slam. "Love you, too, Winry," he whispered.

* * *

_In the final days of the war for Amestris, Edward became clearly aware of something. Actually, it wasn't just one thing, it was a series of things, including that First Lieutenant Hawkeye was right, he did love Winry. Maybe he always had; Edward didn't really consider it much. Bad enough that she was toeing the line right alongside Al and him, when she should've been somewhere safe._

_The problem was, there really wasn't anywhere safe, not with the homunculi and their own pet dog, Kimbley, sniffing around. Edward had known that Scar and Kimbley would have a face off and had only hoped that it would be sometime when Winry was safely out of the way. Of course, things didn't work out the way he'd hoped._

_Edward wished he'd learned that lesson earlier. How many times had it been hammered home? Why didn't it stick? Why did other people always have to pay for his mistakes? Al always said it was just as much his fault but Edward knew differently. It had been his idea in the beginning, to try to bring their mother back to life and Al had his soul imprisoned in a suit of armor for that. Putting his trust in the military was another – that led to Winry being a hostage. Ling…Edward couldn't help but wonder, if he had shot that gun, would his friend still be human? Or would they all have died in the underground chamber? No, he knew better; he and Al would've lived, at least until the homunculi needed their sacrifices._

_He should have remembered that there were no innocents in war, especially where the homunculi and their creepy 'father' were concerned. They didn't see Winry as a kind, loving person, they saw a tool, a goad to make him do what they desired. Even when Winry found out, when he finally broke down and told her, things didn't quite change. Well, the balance of power shifted with Winry having that knowledge but it didn't move as much as Edward had wanted it to. He hated laying that burden on her but there had been no other choice. He couldn't keep her in the dark any more._

_So, her decision to go with Scar had made sense at the time. It had gotten her out of Kimbley's grasp though, even then, Edward had wondered at those consequences. Putting Winry in the hands of the man who killed her parents frightened him more than he wanted to say._

_The fact that his fears hadn't been groundless made what had happened hurt all the worse._

* * *

Edward liked Doctor Pettijean, a rounding, middle-aged man with a moustache and hair going grey at the temples. The doctor had moved to Rezembool to get out of the city life, he said, and had never looked back. One of the reasons Edward liked him was because he didn't make a huge fuss over Al or Winry or having the Fullmetal Alchemist as a patient. Not that Edward considered himself a patient; Pinako was still going strong and he didn't really need a doctor with her around. It wasn't like he was out looking for fights anymore. No, he'd become a real homebody since the end of the war.

Of course, Al and Winry had a lot to do with that.

Al's body, even after six months being reconnected with his soul, was recuperating from being within that place for so many years. While Al didn't get tired nearly as fast as he first did, he still needed to put on weight and muscle. His reflexes were a little slow, too, but his eyes shone with delight every waking second. He walked with the aid of a cane, having graduated from crutches and Edward's assistance earlier this month, though he still hobbled a little. Edward could see that his brother was getting better; every day he could see changes in Al's features; cheeks filling in, eyes not looking so sunken. He could hold a book and read it to Winry now, something that delighted both of them and, consequently, gave both Pinako and Edward a break.

Winry had the energy of a five year old, running around the house and through the yard on pounding feet. Edward only hoped it didn't wear Al down more than he already was, watching that vigor. Sometimes, it tired him out, trying to keep up with her. Winry always got into things. She couldn't keep still unless she was exhausted though she'd remain quiet if someone read to her. Even so, she was a handful and Edward wondered just how Pinako had dealt with them all when they were kids together. Maybe it was because they'd wear each other out. Ed could remember playing hard when they were younger, barely spending time at either of the houses, roaming all over the Rezembool hills on their adventures.

Now Winry's favorite playmates were alternately too old, too weak and too busy to play with her as much as she wanted. Edward tried hard to make time for her daily, knowing that Pinako could take care of Al without his help if necessary but so much needed to be done. Mustang still sent out work, even if it was mostly pushing paper, just so Edward could remain in the loop in Central. And Edward itched to get back into the thick of things. He couldn't help it, the restless feeling was building in him and he knew it was only a matter of time until he finally would have to take off and do something. Edward just hoped that Al would be able to come with him. For now, though, the restrictions lay on him like silken chains, keeping him tied to this place.

Coming down the stairs, Edward found Winry and Al already seated at the table, Pinako opening the oven to let the scent of eggs cooked in bread waft through the house. "About time you got up," the old woman scolded. "Doc Pettijean will be here soon."

His grunt to her made Al smile and shake his head, his silky hair falling in his eyes. "Good morning, Brother."

"Morning, Al." Edward ruffled Winry's hair as he walked past her, ignoring her indignant yelp, heading for the pot of coffee warming on the stove. "Breakfast smells good, Granny," he relented enough to say.

"Hmph. If you were up earlier, you could've made this." Pinako gave him a steely look through her glasses. "Put that on the table, Ed."

Grabbing the tray with his automail hand, Edward set it on the table. His sensors reacted to the heat but not the same way nerves would in flesh, just letting him know there was the potential for danger. He slid the metal tray on the hotplate and turned to grab a spatula out of the drawer. "Don't touch anything, you two, it's still hot," he said in warning, knowing that one of them would be reaching for the egg toast.

Pinako settled at her chair with a sigh and Edward handed her the spatula before heading back to the stove to pour two cups of coffee. Carrying the cups to the table, he set one in front of Pinako and the other beside his plate, hooking the chair out with his bare foot and sitting. Breakfast was loud as always, Pinako informing them of the patients who were to arrive; Winry reminding Edward that he promised to take her to the river, Al commenting on the book he'd read last night and Edward grousing about the paperwork that Mustang had sent for him to review. The conversation flowed to fill the kitchen with happy noise, a comfort in and of itself and Edward thought that, if he had to, he really could stay here forever.

Winry's laughter broke through his musing and he studied her as she wagged her fork at Al across the table. For an instant, Edward could see the young woman she'd become, the brilliant, stubborn, caring girl who insisted on going with Scar –

\- and then she spilled her milk onto her plate and burst into tears.

Grabbing her plate and the glass, Edward put both in the sink, picking up the dishtowel on the way back. "It's okay, Winry," he told her, mopping up the spill. "There's still another egg toast left and you can have it. I'll even get you another glass of milk." Exaggerating his twitch of distaste at the idea of even coming in contact with the nasty stuff made Winry's downcast expression tilt up a little bit, "Even if milk is vile." Edward tossed the soaking towel into the sink and used his napkin to wipe Winry's eyes quickly. "You're such a crybaby," he teased gently.

"Yeah, Winry. There's no use crying over spilt milk," Al said, giving her a broad smile and a wink, making her nod and giggle while Edward fetched her a new plate and poured her a fresh glass of milk.

"Why anyone would want to is beyond me," Edward said, setting the glass next to Winry's plate. Scrubbing his hand against the front of his shirt, he sat at his place again, tucking into his own breakfast. "You'd better eat or I won't be taking you wading later." He used the end of his fork to point at Winry's plate.

Eyes widening, Winry promptly cut into the toast, popping a piece of it in her mouth and chewing hard. Almost before she'd swallowed, she was cutting another piece.

Pinako frowned at her granddaughter. "Don't chew so fast, Winry," she said. "I don't want you choking."

"Yes'm," Winry said around the toast, bending her head to the task in front of her.

Her gaze lifting, Pinako failed to hide the flash of pain that crossed her face and Edward's hands tightened in response. He knew the old woman didn't blame him but it still hurt, dammit. Pushing back out of his chair, Edward offered his breakfast to Den. "I'm going outside for a few minutes," he said, forcing a smile, "see if I can spot Doc Pettijean." Touching Al's shoulder lightly as he walked by, Edward headed out the door and away from his family.

The morning sun threw the land in golden light and darker shadows, dew shining in the long grass. Edward took a deep breath, holding it to feel his chest tighten, then let it out again. Leaning against the porch railing, he closed his eyes in protest of the new day, wishing, as he had so many times before, that he could turn time back.

* * *

_He'd carried her earrings with him, the little bits of metal sitting uncomfortably in his pocket next to the pocket watch he'd tried to return. Edward hadn't considered the significance of them being handed over at the time, though Al, later, in a fit of amusement, said, "It's sort of like you're her knight. She's given you a token of her esteem."_

_Edward rolled his eyes at the idea. "It's nothing like that," he protested, though that thought made him even more uneasy about carrying them. He couldn't remember the fairy tales very well, they'd never really interested him as a kid, but didn't the knights get tokens before going off to fight? And didn't the ladies usually love the knight they gave those tokens to?_

_He tried not to think about it, which just meant it bothered him all the more, like a toothache that he could ignore for a little while but the pain suddenly would flare up. Dammit, not a pain, Edward scolded himself. Yes, he was concerned for Winry. Hell, even more than concerned – he'd let her down. He was supposed to protect her and now her fate was in the hands of a man he couldn't trust, the man who'd taken her parents' lives, the man who'd tried to kill him so many times. Worse yet, Kimbley could've killed Winry trying to take out Scar. He would have without hesitating had Edward not stopped him and that made Edward's blood chill faster than any blizzard could._

_Winry had been right leaving them, Edward realized it, but still, that look in Kimbley's eyes haunted his thoughts. Scar might not be able to keep her safe and that fear nagged at him. If Kimbley caught up to them, Edward knew that Kimbley wouldn't consider that Winry was a hostage. Her safety wasn't his concern – he was too focused on Scar and seeking retaliation. If Winry got in the way, well, Kimbley wouldn't care. Edward thought that maybe Scar would feel the same way and that thought terrified him._

_Not wanting to worry his brother or even Captain Miles, who genuinely seemed to care about Winry, Edward kept his fears locked inside. Sharing them just made them more real. He tried desperately to find something else to occupy his attention, terrified when Al had to leave in the blizzard to warn Winry and the others that the fortress might not be safe. Kimbley hadn't noticed that his brother was gone, at least not at first, but Alphonse Elric was hard to not miss and normal excuses just didn't work. The only thing that held Kimbley back was the blizzard and Edward thought that if Kimbley had had more chimeras to throw into the storm to trail Al, he would have. Edward had managed to keep up a semblance of defense when Kimbley questioned him about his brother: "Look, I didn't know Al was going but I wouldn't have stopped him if I did! This might be the best chance to find Winry! If you had taken better care of her, none of this would've happened!" Even as he spoke, Edward could read Kimbley's eyes – that it was only a matter of time before the battle was rejoined and Edward and his brother had just turned traitor._

_So be it. Edward didn't care; as far as he was concerned, he turned traitor the instant he found out that his best friend could be used against him. Any country – any government – that had to use coercion on its own people didn't need to exist. He'd meant what he'd said to Colonel Bastard about making Amestris a democracy but first, they had to get the homunculi and Kimbley out of the way._

_Selfishly, he thought to himself, 'and make sure Winry remained safe during the rebellion.' _

* * *

It was said that Doc Pettijean's rattletrap car could be heard all the way from the Rezembool train station. It gasped and wheezed and clanked and crashed but Doc said that it ran just fine. Winry would cover her ears every time she heard it, making a face. When Doc got close enough that she could yell and he'd be able to hear her, she'd complain that he needed to get it fixed and to take it to her Granny, right now. He'd always laugh and tousle her hair, often offering her a lollipop in apology.

Now that car rattled up the dirt road, clouds of dust billowing in its wake. Edward sat up, watching as it approached, squinting a little to see past the glare on the windscreen to the man driving the vehicle. He shaded his eyes with both hands, the morning glare still bright enough that Edward couldn't see well but only one person drove that car and no one else was really scheduled to come out this early. Getting to his feet, he leaned against the porch railing, hearing the screen door behind him creak open and slam closed again.

"Ugh," Winry said, joining him on the porch, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. "That car."

"It gets him where he wants to go," Edward reminded her casually.

Winry ticked off a list of problems. "It runs hot, I can smell that. And the left rear tire is going." Her scowl deepened. "Actually, I think the rear axle is bent." She rolled her eyes as the car rattled to a stop in front of the house, choking and wheezing before the engine actually died. "It needs so much work," she moaned.

Edward couldn't help the hope that flared when Winry said things like that. "Maybe if you ask nice," he said diffidently, "Dr. Pettijean will let you work on his car."

"I'm a mechanic, Ed." Winry gave him a dirty look. "I'm not a miracle worker."

He smirked and stepped off the porch as Doc opened the door, the squeal loud enough to be heard two fields away. "Mornin', Doc," Edward said, raising his hand in salute as the man approached, swinging his black bag.

"Edward." Doc nodded, his moustache bristling in a friendly way. "Hot enough for you?" He actually showed teeth at Winry, wagging a finger at her. "Don't go running off on any dates, young lady. Your granny asked me to have a look at you, too, while I was coming out to see Alphonse."

Her face screwing up, Winry shot a glare back at the house and her grandmother, hidden within. "All right," she muttered reluctantly, hunching her shoulders and starting back up the steps reluctantly.

Edward followed her inside, holding the door for Doc. The older man greeted Pinako and Al, and, after accepting a cup of coffee, he ordered Edward to help his brother to Pinako's exam room. Shouldering Alphonse down the hall, Edward set him on the table, leaning against one of the walls as Doc Pettijean began his exam. Pinako joined them, folding her arms, and Edward couldn't help but notice that her hair had white streaks in amongst the grey. When had that happened? He curled his hands into fists, biting his lower lip. He understood death all too well but a part of him wailed at the idea of anything happening to Pinako. Winry and Al needed her; hell, he needed her. Edward wasn't sure he could do this by himself.

Al put up with the questions, poking and prodding with his general good natured tolerance. Doc Pettijean complemented Al on how much better he looked since the last time he'd been out, made noises about how well Al was progressing and to not push himself; it would take more time before he was completely fit again.

Winry drifted in at some point during the exam, Den following her tentatively. The dog limped a little; arthritis, Pinako had said, the corners of her mouth turning down. Edward wasn't sure how Winry would deal with her dog dying any more than he could predict how they'd handle it when Pinako died. He just kept hoping neither happened any time in the near future.

"Well, Alphonse, I can see definite improvement," Pettijean said, after completing his physical. "You've put on weight." He grinned, tousling Al's hair. "Pretty soon, Ed won't be able to haul you around."

"Good," Edward grumped. "I'm getting tired of that." He reached forward to nudge Al's shoulder playfully and Al swatted at him, the blow carrying about as much weight as a kitten's.

"You're progressing to a complete recovery," Pettijean said, writing a couple of notes down in his file, "and I have to say, you're doing very well."

"Thanks, Doctor." Alphonse smiled back, tugging his shirt back on.

"I know that you're doing some rehabilitation work to get you back on your feet under Dr. Rockbell's observations. I'd say, keep them up, don't overdo," Pettijean glanced at Alphonse from under bushy eyebrows, "be sure to eat."

"He does," Pinako said complacently.

"Make sure you take time to rest." Pettijean wagged his pen at Al. "That's very important." He helped Al off the exam table, helping him down on the nearby stool. While that was happening, Pinako pointed her pipe stem at Winry, who puffed out her cheeks in exasperation.

"Do I have to get on the table?" she asked, not quite a whine but close to it.

"Yes, you have to get on the table." Edward rolled his eyes at her.

"Come on now, Winry. No shots or anything today," Pettijean said, turning to her and patting the top of the table.

With a despondent sigh, Winry put her hands on the table and hopped onto it, wriggling around, her face screwed up as she tried to find a comfortable position. Finally settled, she dumped her hands in her lap and looked at Dr. Pettijean warily. "No shots?"

"None," he said, showing her his upraised hands. "I promise. I just want to listen to your heart and breathing and talk to you a little. Is that okay?"

Winry squirmed, her lower lip jutting out. "Okay," she said, "but Ed and Al have to go away."

Edward straightened, a little surprised at the request. "Sure, Winry, whatever you want," he said to cover that up, going around the table to collect Al. "We'll be waiting for you outside." He bent down and Al threw his arm around Edward's shoulders. They made their way out of the exam room, a clumsy, shuffling creature with too many limbs and a tendency to list to one side.

"I want to go outside, Brother," Alphonse said before Edward could get him into the great room and, with an exaggerated eye roll, Edward helped his brother outside and into the swing on the porch.

"There." He dusted his hands, leaning his backside against the railing and considered why Winry might have sent them out of the room.

"Ed?" Alphonse's tentative use of his name got his attention.

"Yeah, Al? What is it? Need a blanket or something?" Edward pushed off the railing, ready to go back inside but Al shook his head.

"Don't worry so much about us." He smiled, tilting his head back. "We'll be okay, Brother. Winry and me, both."

Edward scowled, not happy to be so easily read. "It's what big brothers do, Al." He reached over, ruffling Al's hair. "I can't help it."

"We're getting better." Al leaned into the petting. "It just takes time."

"Yeah," Edward mumbled, sitting next to Al so he could continue stroking his hair. "Yeah, I know."

* * *

_The next time he'd seen Winry had been all too brief, not to mention distant – he and Captain Miles had accompanied Kimbley in an attempt to capture Scar. Edward knew that Kimbley didn't trust him; it was all too evident in the way Kimbley's snaky eyes followed Edward's movements, the way he seemed to weigh every word that tumbled out of Edward's mouth._

_They'd spotted Scar moving rapidly along, dragging Winry behind him. She'd glanced back and Edward had caught a glimpse of her face just before Scar turned a corner round a building, pulling her with him. Edward hadn't seen his brother or Dr. Marco or even that little bean girl but right then, at that instant, he didn't care – Winry looked like she was okay and it was enough to allow some of the tension in him to dissipate._

_"He's getting away," Kimbley murmured, his focus on Scar again and Edward wished he didn't feel some mixture of relief and horror that Kimbley wasn't concentrating on him. The alchemist suddenly shot forward, slamming his hands to the ground. Edward felt a yell rise in his throat, too late to do anything, as a crevasse formed; buildings toppled and swayed._

_Terror shot through Edward's body as a building cracked, the noise like a gunshot magnified a thousand thousand times. Like dominoes, the first building crashed into the second, the second into the third and Edward felt himself shouting, the sound of it lost in the destruction tumbling before him. He started forward only to get jerked back by someone's hands, fought against that grip, striving to reach Winry, screaming her name, and suddenly breaking free to fall to the ground. Rough bits of concrete and stone cut through his gloves and the knees of his trousers but Edward scrambled up again, not even feeling the pain as he tried to make his way through the rubble. Dust swirled around him, making him cough, catching in his throat, making his eyes tear as he searched for her. He couldn't even put the buildings to right with his alchemy – he hadn't been inside them; didn't know what room went where, what piece of girder went with what floor. Dread pooled in his stomach as he climbed recklessly over an unstable piece of building, fluting details showing him that this was part of a flying buttress, and that it had fallen from so far up._

_There was no more corner; not even the street where Edward had last seen Winry and Scar. He could hear someone saying faintly, as if from a great distance, "No, no no nonono," a refrain that kept up as Edward climbed over the rubble. He scanned the area, searching for anything; a flash of dawn gold hair; the brown fabric of a jacket; a hand, waving. "No." Jumping down, Edward landed hard on the unsteady surface of something that might've been a building front previously. He refused to accept it, refused to believe that Winry was…._

_"Hmm." The voice interjected itself into Edward's thoughts. "That was a bit excessive, even for me."_

_Turning jerkily, a puppet on a string, Edward's hands clenched, his lips skinning back from his teeth. A wordless growl roared out of his chest as he lunged up the rubble, aiming for the hazy crimson shape above him. He punched with his metal fist, shock tearing through him with he didn't feel flesh and bone crumpling under his automail. Overcompensating for the movement, Edward nearly slid off the hunk of concrete, scrabbling for his balance. His breath came in heavy pants and he swiped at his eyes, mentally cursing the dust for making them water. "You bastard." Leaping into the air, Edward swung his body into a circle, leading with his right foot, the strike vibrating up his leg and into his hip. Fury and joy swarmed over him as his left foot hit, too, sending Kimbley tumbling down into the rubble._

_Everything that followed was a blur – Kimbley's hands pressing on the rubble; the shockwave that erupted from his palms and sped up the chunk of building Edward stood on; the way the concrete shuddered and crumbled beneath him and the curse that ripped out of his throat as he fell – then all went black._

_When he came to, Edward found himself back in stocks, trapped in the Briggs' prison system, at least until Kimbley decided to force him to act for the military. That had been a fiasco on Kimbley's behalf, especially when Edward reminded him that he wasn't doing anything for a military group that had destroyed any reason he had for working for them. The fight that ensued left Edward wounded and at the mercy of a pair of chimeras, who hauled him to a doctor and healing, and away from Kimbley._

_It was only much later that Edward heard the story of how Alphonse and that bean girl worked to find Winry; by alchemy and dumb luck, they located the girder that had fallen over Winry and Scar and heard the faint sound of tapping vibrating up through the metal. They'd blown away the debris to find Winry, crouched in a tiny space of grit and stone and bits of building welded together by alchemy, the girder providing a bit of support for the wall Scar had created but also pinning the Ishbalan to the ground. Alphonse later explained to his brother that Scar had died before they reached him, his pelvis crushed by the girder, and Winry…Winry was unharmed except for scrapes and cuts._

_At least, they'd thought that at first._

* * *

The message came in the form of a stocky man with a bristling haircut, walking along the dirt road, a jacket slung over one arm. Den saw him first, raising up from her favorite napping place on the grass next to the front stoop and barking an alarm. Edward came from the back of the house, where he and Winry had been weeding in the garden, swiping a hand across his forehead and squinting down the dirt path that led to the house. Winry joined him, shading her eyes with her gloved hands. "Who is it?"

"Looks like," Edward narrowed his eyes even more sharply, "someone to see me." He touched Winry's shoulder, leaving a grubby print on her work clothes. "Why don't you go get cleaned up and let Granny and Al know we have company?"

"Who is it?" Winry frowned, not recognizing Breda. Edward didn't think they'd ever actually met.

"I'll introduce you when he gets here." Turning her around, Edward gave her a little push toward the steps. "Go get cleaned up. And take Den with you. Breda doesn't like dogs." Lower lip pooching out, Winry pouted, calling Den to come with her as she climbed the stoop to the house. The screen door squealed open and she and the dog disappeared inside as Edward stripped off his gloves, shoving them loosely in his trouser pockets while walking down the path to meet his 'guest.'

"Afternoon, boss." Breda spoke up when he was within speaking distance. "I guess you know why I've come."

Edward gave him a searching look and nodded slowly. "C'mon. Better if you break the news than me." He turned back toward the house, expecting the older man to follow.

"Oh, no. I don't get paid enough for that." Breda fell into step beside Edward, shooting him a suspicious glance. "Did I hear a dog barking?"

"Yeah, Den. She's old, though, and probably won't jump on you. She saves that kind of thing for me." Edward grinned but there wasn't much humor in it. "The other females in the house, they're more likely to jump on you than the dog."

"If that's true, I don't see any reason to go up there." Breda halted, a sour expression on his face. "We all know why you're on break. No one wanted to call you back so soon but you're needed." He reached out, giving Edward's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I'm sorry, kid."

"I knew it would happen." The words rolled off his tongue easily, as if Edward had rehearsed them in his sleep. "I'd get called back. I've been prepared for it. Al and Granny knew it was coming, too." Taking a deep breath, he let it out in a sigh. "How soon do I need to be in Central?"

The hand lingered on Edward's shoulder. "I'm supposed to bring you back with me."

Somehow, he'd been expecting that, too. Edward nodded, shrugging out from under Breda's hand. "Come on. I've got to explain and hope that this doesn't hurt as much as I think it will."

* * *

_Considering Winry's predicament, it was a wonder that she'd remained safe through everything else that happened. Alphonse had managed to convince her, though it took some doing, to remain in Lior with Rose. Even though Alphonse hadn't thought it was really the safest place, he figured it would be the last place anyone would expect to see her. He and Hohenheim had dragged Yoki and the chimeras on to Central to meet up with Edward and finish the battle._

_Alphonse didn't have time to tell Edward about Winry being alive at first; something that Edward almost couldn't forgive his brother for. Still, the cold determination he felt in wanting to avenge her death probably suited the battlefield better than knowing she was alive and possibly still in danger. And when Al did find the time, Edward had been in the throes of a murderous rage, nearly beating Kimbley to death. The other alchemist had been unconscious when Alphonse hauled his brother off, his silent fury frightening Al more than he'd ever let Edward know. The words spilled then, a story that almost made Edward forget everything and everyone. He'd laughed, a weary but joyous sound and, if Alphonse didn't comment about the sparkle of tears in his lashes, Edward wouldn't say anything about the length of time it had taken for Al to tell him that she was still alive._

* * *

Winry couldn't believe that someone would be scared of Den, who seemed perfectly content to ignore Breda so she could sprawl out on the porch again. Pinako insisted Breda stay for lunch, making thick bacon and tomato sandwiches on toasted bread with freshly made mayonnaise from the Nedobeck farm. Edward could almost forget that this wasn't a social visit with Breda telling funny stories about what had been happening around Central – and who knew that Breda had a knack for impersonation, deftly portraying Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong asking Sciezca on a date – right before Captain Havoc made his move. Lunch, fortunately, contained no word of Edward being asked to return to Central, though he was sure Pinako and Alphonse knew. Breda's appearance pretty much heralded it.

Granny sent Winry outside with scraps for Den and the chickens once the meal was over, her eyes narrowing at Breda through her glasses. "How soon does Edward have to leave?"

"Tomorrow, ma'am. The boss wouldn't have asked for him if it wasn't important." Breda glanced from Pinako to Alphonse apologetically.

"Tomorrow?" Alphonse's eyebrows climbed into his bangs and Edward thought his brother would want his hair cut again soon, being fussier about his appearance than Edward ever had been. "But," he cut a glance at the doorway.

Edward pushed back from the table. "Don't worry, Al. I'll explain it to her." His offer to do the dishes was waved aside. Pinako said that she and Al could handle it and Breda jumped in to help, too, insisting it was the least he could do. Edward left them to sort it all out, leaving the kitchen and walking down the hall. The screen door squealed as he pushed it open and Edward didn't let it thump closed behind him. Winry sat on the porch with Den, rubbing the old dog's chest. Den's tongue lolled out of her mouth and her tail thumped on the porch, making the wood boom softly. "Hey, Winry." Edward touched her shoulder. "Let's go for a walk."

Delighted, she scrambled up and hopped off the porch. "Where're we going?"

"I guess we'll figure that out when we get there." Tucking his hands in his pockets, Edward walked down the dirt path leading toward the road, Winry skipping along next to him. Den followed them as far as the road then plopped down there, scratching at her ear. Winry turned to wave to her dog, walking backwards a few paces before spinning around again. Out of the corners of his eyes, Edward watched his friend. Right now, she was all smiles but he had no doubt those would disappear when he told Winry he had to go to Central. The way she was now, Edward wasn't sure Winry would understand that he had to go based on Mustang's orders.

"That Mr. Breda who came to lunch was funny, wasn't he?" Winry took Edward's arm unexpectedly, giving it a squeeze.

"You liked his stories?" He couldn't help but smile when Winry let go of his arm to bounce ahead.

"Uh huh! I hope he tells us more at supper." She walked backwards again for a few steps, her hands linked behind her back. Edward watched the road ahead of her for loose stones or potholes but Winry twirled around, walking forward. He couldn't help but study her, the way the sunlight hit her crown, making her hair rich as gilt, the dust coating her bare feet up to her ankles. There was dirt under her nails from working in the garden and a tan kissed her skin. He could almost forget what had been stolen from her at moments like these. When she looked back at him, he could catch sight of the smatter of freckles covering her nose and cheekbones. A sweet smile lit her face and Edward found himself responding to it, responding to the sight of her, walking in front of him, the length of her hair twitching just at the top of her backside; her long legs that he wanted wrapped around him. His blood surged and pounded and Edward shook his head, forcing his attention away from Winry and toward alchemic calculations, trying to get his body back under control. It was difficult. Winry was beautiful and Edward allowed himself that conscious thought once before he had to push it aside with all his other regrets.

By the time they'd reached their destination, Edward had his body under control again, at least enough that, if Winry asked, he could tell her the heat was what pinked his cheeks and made him sweat. The river in spring was muddy and prone to flooding, cutting deep ruts into the land as it crashed along the banks. In the summer, it shrank to less than a third of its springtime high and was often clear enough to spot fish darting under its surface. Kids dared each other to swing out on ropes from trees perched on the high banks and fall into the deeper water toward the center. Water striders skimmed in the shallows and dragonflies flitted about, diving down sometimes to catch the tiniest minnows or other prey. Ducks and geese could be spotted with their young, and Edward remembered that someone had seen an otter slide last year. He wondered if the animals had remained or swam off to some other part of the river. He supposed it didn't matter; if they had stayed, someone would see them and probably complain about the otters eating the fish. Winry, though, might like them and Edward was sure Al would, too. They'd probably try to catch the animals as pets and wouldn't that make Pinako happy, having otters swimming in the bathtub? Unable to stop a snicker, Edward shook his head at the image of Pinako chasing otters out of the house with a broom.

"What's so funny, Ed?" Winry stopped a good distance away from the bank drop off, her bare toes curling into the lush grass. It would take too much out of him to explain, he decided, and shook his head again. Winry pouted but forgot her annoyance when she spotted a yellow and black butterfly, dancing over the water. Her gleeful exclamation made Edward's throat constrict and he had to look away from her for a few seconds until he could be sure he wouldn't upset her with his expression. "Ed, what's wrong?"

He'd forgotten how well she could read him, even now. Swallowing down his emotions, Edward turned to face Winry. He tried on a smile cautiously. "Nothing, Winry. I'm okay."

She tilted her head, bangs sliding into her eyes. Pushing them back in exasperation, she wrinkled her nose. "You don't look okay." Coming closer, the corners of her mouth turned down. "It's 'cause Mr. Breda's here, isn't it?"

Hating the feeling that came over him, a mixture of dismay and relief, Edward cleared his throat. "He's here to take me back to work, Winry. The military needs me."

For a few seconds, she remained still, long enough for Edward to think that maybe, she'd be okay. Winry's eyes filled with sudden tears and her face crumpled. "You're going away?" Her words sounded thin and laden with misery.

"I have to." Edward reached out to her, not surprised when she took a step back, astonished at the feeling that ran through him, like a blow to his heart. His hand remained in the air between them. "It won't be long, Winry. A month, maybe two. And Al's staying here with you. He'll take care of you and Granny."

"Al?" The disbelief in her voice made Edward's head jerk up at how much she sounded like she had, before. "Al can't take care of us, he can't even move without help!" Winry shook her head, her hair whipping from side to side, lashing her cheeks and forehead. "You can't go. Tell them no, Edward."

"I can't, Winry. I have to leave with Breda." He took a deep breath. "I have to take the first train tomorrow."

"No!" Winry closed the distance between them, catching hold of his shirt, her fingers digging into the fabric like talons. Her blunt nails scraped at his chest through the shirt. "You can't go, Ed. You can't!"

"Winry, it's my job." Edward caught her hands, trying to soothe her, but Winry jerked free with a wail. She sank to the ground, her legs splayed, fingers knotting in the grass. Following her down, Edward grasped her shoulders, not sure what to do now. "Winry, please. I promise I'll come back." She plastered herself against his chest, soaking his thin shirt with tears, and Edward realized she wasn't calming down but getting worse. "Winry! Come on!" He tried to push her away but she was tenacious as a vice grip, wrapped around him like she'd never set him free. "Winry!"

He didn't mean to shove her that hard but he did, flinging her off of him. Winry landed on her back, skidding on the grass, staring at him when she came to a stop. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish's, her freckles standing out against her suddenly pale skin. "Dammit, Winry, I'm sorry." When he reached out, she scrambled back. Realizing, Edward grabbed for her too late as she disappeared over the edge of the drop off with a shriek.

"Winry!" He dove for her, slamming his hands together as she vanished, pressing them to the ground. The scent of ozone and fresh dirt filled his nostrils and Edward peered over the side, dismayed that Winry wasn't in the hand he'd created to catch her. "Winry!" Jumping onto the hand, Edward leaped off of it and into the water. "Winry, where are you?" The water wasn't moving fast enough to carry her off and it wasn't even deep enough to wet his knees. His heart thudded in his chest and his mouth went dry. "Winry!"

The sound was so faint, Edward wasn't sure if he heard it but he cocked his head, straining to hear her. Whirling around, he faced the earthen wall with the hand jutting out of it. Edward squatted down in the water, finally spotting Winry under the shelf of dirt he'd transmuted to stop her from falling. "Winry?" He heard her splashing but couldn't really see her very well. "Hang on." Pressing his palms together, he touched the hand, making the soil rain down around her.

She sat in the water, looking like a crumpled doll. Dirt clots clung to her damp hair, skin and clothes and her eyes were wide and staring. Edward took the few steps to reach her, grasping her shoulders again, swearing at himself repeatedly in his mind while he spoke her name out loud. "I'm sorry, Winry. I'm sorry. Come on, get up, okay?" Edward realized he was trembling or maybe Winry was; his hands and forearms shook like an earthquake. "Please, Winry."

Moving then, she made a weird little moan but got to her feet, staggering into him as he rose with her. Edward pulled her close, holding her tightly, whispering apologies into her hair. Winry didn't attempt to pull free but she didn't clutch at him like she'd done earlier, either. Carefully easing her back, Edward ducked his head, trying to look into her eyes. "Winry?" He let go of her shoulder with his automail hand, cupping her chin and gently tipping it up. "Are you all right?"

Her dazed expression faded abruptly as their eyes met. The smile that tried to start over Edward's face collapsed as Winry sagged forward limply. "Winry? Winry!" Swearing furiously, Edward slapped his hands together, making a series of steps in the dirt wall so he could carry Winry up them. His pulse thudded in his skull as he levered them up the makeshift stairway to the higher ground above.

* * *

_After getting Alphonse back, Edward asked for a leave of absence. He wanted to take his brother home to heal, since Alphonse was little more than a stick figure; little scraps of flesh wrapped around stark bone. Long hair and a pair of eyes that were too big for his gaunt face. He wanted to call Izumi and ask her and Sig to visit. He wanted a lot of things but mostly, he wanted to see everyone's smile when they saw that Al had his body back._

_"You'd better get in touch with Rose," Al reminded him, "Winry's with her. I told her to stay there so she'd be out of harm's way."_

_Edward snorted. "Then Winry's probably already gone home."_

_"Lior's kind of off the beaten path." Al had rested a little while before saying anything more. "You'd better write her, just to make sure."_

_If there was a hint of concern in Alphonse's voice, Edward missed it but, with a grumble, he obeyed his little brother, scrawling a note to Winry and posting it the next day. It would've been simpler if he could've called. Unfortunately, as Al pointed out before falling back to sleep, there weren't telephone lines to Lior. A letter would be the fastest way to contact Winry and even that would take a while to reach her. By the time she got it, Edward planned on being back in Rezembool with Al, well, if the doctor gave them leave to go. Al needed cosseting and care and Ed still thought their hometown, the familiarity of family – and he'd finally gotten it, that Winry and Granny were as much to Alphonse and him as if they were blood – would be the best way for Al to recuperate. Edward didn't kid himself that he didn't need it, too; these past two years had been heartbreaking and difficult, not to mention plain exhausting. He was looking forward to lazing around in the grass and maybe helping round up a few loose sheep while taking care of Al and finally, finally telling Winry how he felt. Her earrings still rested in his pocket, a reminder of that unspoken pledge between them, and Edward intended on acting on that promise._

* * *

He sank to his knees in the thick grass, curling over her limp body. Laying her on the ground, Edward patted Winry's cheek with his flesh fingers. "Winry? Honey, wake up. Open your eyes, please. Please!" His heart seemed to have fallen into his stomach and hopelessness swarmed over him, a reminder of what he'd felt when Kimbley collapsed those buildings in Briggs. "Please," Edward moaned, pressing his forehead against Winry's. Swallowing hard, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, Winry. I'm sorry for everything. I need you," he choked, "need you to open your eyes, Winry."

* * *

_Alphonse had told Edward that, after he and Mei had found Winry, she'd been quiet. Dr. Marcoh said it was understandable, that she'd had a traumatic experience and she just needed some time. When they'd ascertained that she was all right; nothing broken that Mei couldn't heal; Al remembered that he wanted to go to Lior, to check and see if Sloth had dug that circular tunnel beneath that city. He'd hoped that the change in scenery would do Winry some good but she was still withdrawn. Though helping the people of Lior seemed to galvanize almost everyone else in their group, Winry had problems being in the streets, especially next to the temple, where part of the roof was caved in with a statue in it. Even explaining it was Ed's handiwork hadn't cheered her, Al remembered. He'd felt guilty about leaving her with Rose that very first day, going off to work with Hoehenheim, but the curiosity of being able to speak to his father won out. Rose had managed to distract Winry with a bath and tea, and a change of clothes so she would be more comfortable in the warmer climes of Lior and Alphonse had returned in the evening anyway._

_Al couldn't remember whose idea it was to return to Central, whether Hohenheim said it first, or one of the chimeras. Maybe Al, himself, had said it. But whoever had that thought first, his concern had been keeping Winry safe. That meant that she needed to remain in Lior, where no one would be looking for her, even if they thought she was alive. He'd discarded the idea of sending her to Rezembool or Rush Valley, both for the reasons someone might recognize her and because he didn't have anyone to take her to either place - something that Edward later wanted to find fault with but where would Winry have gone, anyway? Al's insistence that she remain in Lior made sense at the time._

_The thing Al did remember was Winry clinging to his greave, begging him not to go. He'd been gentle but firm, telling her what he had to do, that he couldn't leave Ed alone, that he wanted her to be safe and stay in Lior with Rose. He'd rumpled her hair and told her to be strong, they'd come for her soon, and left her standing there, Rose's arm around her waist. He hadn't looked back, Al had told Edward later, regret lodged deep in his voice; already intent on the battle ahead of him._

_And Edward had to absolve Al of his guilt, knowing how much more compounded his own was._

* * *

Edward had had to relearn how to actually physically take care of someone when Al regained his body. Now, he stroked Winry's hair away from her face, a senseless stream of babble falling from his mouth. She panted shallowly and, when he checked, Edward found a strong pulse. Mud smeared her face and clotted in her hair and her clothes were soaked. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to shut up, to be calm, to think, even when he wanted to howl to the sky overhead. "Winry," her name came out like a prayer and, staring down at her, Edward searched her face for any hint of a change.

* * *

_He still remembered the day that Winry returned to Rezembool. There wasn't a letter or a phone call; just the sight of two people appearing on the road. Alphonse saw them first out the window of living room, or maybe Den did, because she ran to the door and started barking. A broad smile spread across Pinako's face as she ordered Edward to get the door and he practically ran down the hall, almost as if he knew that Winry was home. He swung open the door almost before the knock came, a huge grin splitting his face in two when he saw her, snugged up next to Rose. Winry looked tiny next to the older girl, tucked into a sweater that was too big for her._

_Den shoved past Edward to get to Winry, dancing as much as an old dog could, her tail wagging so hard that Edward was sure he'd have bruises on both thighs. Winry fell to her knees, hugging her dog around the neck and Den made an excited, high pitched whine, licking Winry's cheek. Edward could barely tear his eyes away from the reunion to look up at Rose, who, dammit, was still taller than he was. "She asked you to come with her, huh? C'mon, Winry, it's too cold to leave the door open. Come inside."_

_"'Kay." Winry scrambled up, saying, "Go inside, Den," to the dog, then grabbing Rose's hand. "C'mon, Rose. Granny'll make us hot tea and cinnamon toast." She tugged at the other girl's wrist. "Even Ed eats that, 'cause there's no milk in it."_

_"Winry, I," whatever he'd been about to say died in Edward's throat when Winry raised her gaze to meet his. He rocked back, a choked sound escaping him. Her eyes, he thought wildly, his own widening in response to what he saw there, what he didn't see that he'd expected to see, then Winry pushed past him and into the house and Edward turned on Rose, all his questions tangling up in his mouth before they could break free._

_"I'm sorry," Rose whispered, her head drooping. "None of us knew what to do."_

_Edward glanced at the door, hearing Pinako's greeting to Winry. His mouth set in a firm line. "You'd better come inside. Pinako and Al will need to hear this, too." Opening the door, he ushered Rose through it, the sounds of voices leading them both down the hall to the living room. Edward hesitated before entering the room, bracing his hands on the doorframe. It seemed a normal enough scene until he saw the skeletal thin boy on the couch, wrapped in blankets. His heart tugged at the sight of his little brother and again when Rose made a soft sound, her fingers covering her mouth. "I should've warned you," Edward murmured. "Sorry."_

_"I guess we should've warned each other," Rose spoke just as quietly before she entered the room. "Alphonse?"_

_"Rose?" Al's brilliant smile warmed the coldest corners of the room. "You came with Winry. That's great!" He turned, slowly, toward Pinako. "Granny, this is Rose. She's a friend of mine and Brother's from Lior. Rose, this is Pinako Rockbell, Winry's grandmother."_

_"Hello." Rose inclined her head politely._

_"Thank you for bringing my granddaughter back," Pinako said and there was a hint of something in her voice that let Edward know she'd noticed something wrong, too. "I was just going to fix some tea for us, to warm us up." She stroked a gnarled hand over Winry's hair and the girl grinned up at her grandmother._

_"I'll start the water heating." Edward was surprised he managed to speak in an almost normal tone. If things had been normal, he couldn't help but think as he started down the hallway to the kitchen, he'd have asked Winry to come along and help him. Maybe tell her how worried he'd been about her, how much he'd missed her. How much it had hurt when he thought she'd died – the indescribable feeling when Al told him she was alive. His hands clenched and his jaw tightened and Edward swallowed down all his emotions, slamming a door shut on them. He couldn't lose control now. Not until he found out what happened but he couldn't do that in the kitchen, either. Filling the teakettle, Edward set it on the burner and lit a match to light the stove. He adjusted the flames and made his way back to the living room. Standing outside the room, he watched Winry, sitting on the floor in front of the couch so she could talk to Al. Granny and Rose watched them both and Edward had to close his eyes against the heart wrenching expressions on their faces._

_When he knew he had himself under control again, he said, "Right!" and stepped into the room. "Kettle's on the stove, Granny, and," his voice crackled and Edward swallowed hard to settle it. "Should be ready in a few minutes," he finished gruffly, sitting down at Al's feet, absently rubbing his brother's ankles through the blanket._

_"Tea's very soothing after a long trip," Pinako said and Edward thought he saw a sheen in her eyes behind the lenses of his glasses. "We should probably have some cookies, too, to celebrate you coming home, Winry."_

_"Really?" Her face brightened and she craned her neck to look over her shoulder at Pinako. "Okay. I'm gonna go wash up!" Winry scrambled up, staggering for a few seconds until she caught her balance then trotted out of the room. Den followed behind her, tail wagging, obviously not wanting Winry to leave her sight now that she was back._

_As soon as the sound came of a door closing, Rose turned away from the doorway. "I'm sorry," she repeated, cupping her elbows._

_"What happened to my granddaughter?" Pinako leaned forward, even her hair seeming to bristle up. "Who did this to her?"_

_"I don't know. I wish I could tell you but Winry…when Alphonse brought her to me, she was so quiet. She didn't say more than two words at a time. She kept her head down, didn't eat much. And then Alphonse told her he was going to Central."_

_"She didn't want me to go," Alphonse said quietly, picking at a thread in the blanket over his lap. "I told her I had to and then she asked to come with me." He raised his head, the sorrow nearly spilling from his eyes. "I told her she'd be safer with Rose and I left her."_

_Rose reached across to touch Alphonse's shoulder. "You couldn't know. None of us could." She met Pinako's gaze squarely. "When Alphonse left, Winry just…broke. She didn't even cry when she realized, she just sank to her knees. I got her up, got her back home and into her bed and she didn't move for almost a day." Rose's voice dropped to a whisper. "The first thing she did was scream. I thought someone was attacking her and ran in but it was almost like she was in a nightmare. I couldn't get her to come out of it until I slapped her." Pretty face contorting in a wince, Rose glanced toward the doorway, staring at the empty space. "And she was quiet again, staring at me, then she asked where you were, Alphonse. Why you'd left her alone."_

_"I had to," Al whispered and Edward tightened his hand on his brother's foot, hating the pain in Al's voice._

_"I know. I understand," Rose nodded at him emphatically, "but it was like Winry…like she went backwards. She's like a child now, a little girl. She remembers some things but not the way an adult would."_

_Edward swallowed at the lump in his throat. "A doctor, has she seen a doctor?"_

_"We have wise women and men in Lior." Rose spread her hands apologetically. "No doctors have come to us yet. I was hoping you'd both come back for her but," she gave Alphonse an understanding smile, "I see why you couldn't."_

_Alphonse seemed ready to protest but Pinako beat him to it. "I know a good doctor." She pushed her glasses up with her thumb and forefinger, using them to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Thank you, Rose, for taking care of Winry."_

_"It's no problem." Rose's smile trembled. "She's a very sweet girl."_

_The kettle screamed in the kitchen and Edward nearly leaped off the couch. "I'll get it." His voice sounded weird, even in his ears, but Edward ignored it. He needed a second, just a few, to process this. Winry, the strongest person he knew, had finally reached her limit._

* * *

It was his fault, Edward knew it deep down, the same way he knew that if he'd never come up with the plan to bring Mom back to life, Al's soul wouldn't have wound up in a suit of armor for all those long years. He'd let Winry go with Scar, he hadn't been able to stop Kimbley from destroying those buildings. He'd let Kimbley knock him unconscious when maybe he could've done something to find Winry before she broke down. He'd promised her she'd cry tears of joy but the only thing he'd done was make it worse for her.

"Winry, please." Edward leaned his forehead against hers. "I can't do this without you." His voice cracked, the words sliding up and down like someone practicing scales on an untuned instrument. "I need you, Winry, don't care if you're a little girl, I just need you. Please, please, open your eyes."

She had to, she couldn't keep paying for the sins he'd committed. It couldn't work that way. Al had gotten the worst of the bargain but he'd been right there along with Edward. Winry was innocent, a pawn, and while Edward knew pawns were the most susceptible pieces in the game, she still shouldn't have been hurt so badly. Slipping his arm back under her shoulders, he lifted Winry up, cradling her against his chest. Her face kept blurring and he blinked his eyes hard. "Please, please, please."

He couldn't let her slip away. They'd both lost so much and she wasn't supposed to lose anything more, especially not herself. For a minute, Edward cursed the fact that Mei had left Amestris with Ling and Ran Fan; if any of her healing alchemy could've brought Winry back to normal, Edward would've gladly swallowed his pride to ask for Mei's help. Doc Pettijean just said it was possible she'd come out of it; that retreating to childhood was her way of dealing with the trauma she'd suffered. Once Winry was strong enough to sort that out, she'd come back, or at least, he thought that might happen.

No one had anticipated this, though; and Edward wanted nothing more than for things to go back to the way they'd been, just a scant half hour before. "I'm sorry, Winry, so sorry." He kissed her damp forehead, smoothing his automail thumb over her cheekbone. "I know I don't deserve you but I need you." He wondered how long it would take to carry her home. Would someone see them and stop to help or were they on their own out here? "Winry," Edward whispered her name like a prayer, "I can't do this without you."

His world condensed to this: the soft puff of her breath against his chin; the smooth sensation of his thumb moving over her cheek; the sound of the river, at his back; her dark lashes, knitted together; his own voice, a rough, pleading cadence that finally stilled though his lips moved, repeating her name over and over. He pulled Winry closer to him, as if he could absorb her into his skin. Despair settled deep inside him, making Edward's shoulders slump. Nothing existed any more, no words remained to be spoken. His thoughts were swaddled in cloth and a leaden weight sank his stomach.

The beating of his heart nearly drowned out everything as Edward sat holding Winry, waiting for the strength to get back up and take her home. Maybe it was best if he just left Rezembool forever. No matter what happened, no matter what he did to prevent it, the people he cared about most were the ones who got hurt the worst. If he wasn't here with them, maybe they'd be safe. But look what telling Winry he was leaving got him. Edward groaned. Safety was an illusion people believed in and he'd fallen right into that trap.

Winry. Dammit. His fault. His fault. His -

Throwing back his head, Edward screamed, the pain roaring through him like lava erupting from a volcano. His breath caught in his throat, making him sob, and Edward dropped his head forward. Tears scalded his eyes but he blinked them back, refusing to let them go. He couldn't function if he was crying. He tried to catch his breath, to stop the racking sounds coming from his mouth that made his throat and lungs ache. He had to get Winry home.

He gathered her up, slipping his right hand under her knees, his left arm already around her shoulders. The sunlight kept fracturing his vision, making him see multiple visions through the drops on his eyelashes. Edward shook his head savagely. He tilted Winry against his chest, holding her tightly as he set his feet to stand up. Teeth bared and ground together, Edward exhaled, rising slowly. He took a step, got his balance with Winry's extra weight, and took another step. Blood sang in his ears as he walked, blotting out every other sound.

Heartbeat pounding the syllables of her name, the drive to get Winry home was so great, Edward almost missed it. "Ed?" The shock of hearing his name jarred his step, throwing him off balance, and Winry tumbled out of his arms before he could catch himself. "Ow!"

"I'm sorry!" He dropped to his knees next to her, hands hovering over her. "Winry, are you…?"

Lying in a crumpled heap, she groaned, forehead creased and eyes squinted shut. "Why'd you drop me?" Winry rubbed her hip, one eye cracking open. "Why were you carrying me?"

"I – you were," Edward stammered, catching her shoulders in his hands. "Winry." He pulled her into his arms, holding her tight as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I thought," he gulped, "I thought." He couldn't even say the words, it hurt too much. Pulling back a little, Edward brushed her damp hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. His trembling hand rested on her cheek afterwards and Edward offered Winry a shaky grin.

A frown started to form on Winry's face and she drew back a little. Edward smothered his hurt at that. "Ed?" She sounded tentative. "Ed, what," she pushed lightly at his chest, "what are we doing here?"

His hands fell to her elbows, cupping them, and Edward studied Winry's face closely, even though her scowl deepened. "Here at the river?" he asked cautiously.

"No." Winry cast a glance around them, obviously confused. "Yes. Why are we in Rezembool?"

Clamping down on the weird feeling flooding him, Edward heard just how strange his own voice sounded. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"You mean besides you dropping me?" She shot him an evil glare that just seemed to bounce off, much to her evident disappointment. "We were in Briggs. You and Al were locked up. Why are you acting so weird, Ed?" Winry twitched her arms free.

Edward wondered if hope felt like this, a peculiar, giddy sensation that made him feel almost like he could float. "You don't," he hesitated, studying Winry closely, "don't remember what happened after that?" Feeling like he was treading on rotten ice, Edward cupped her shoulders again. "You don't remember what happened with Kimbley and," he swallowed, giving her a squeeze, "Scar?"

Winry blinked, her eyes narrowing a bit in thought then suddenly, they went hopelessly wide. "Oh god." Her hands moved to cover her face. "Oh god!" Pulling her close, Edward cradled the back of Winry's head, his automail arm firm against her spine. He pressed his cheek against her crown, absorbing the tremors that wracked Winry's body. Her fingers clutched at his shirt; dug into the flesh below the fabric. "Think I'm gonna be sick."

Loosening his hold on her just in time, Edward helped her turn sideways. He held her hair back as she vomited, stroking her back when she coughed and spat and sat back. Edward fished in his pocket, pulling out a bedraggled but clean handkerchief for her to wipe her mouth. Winry accepted it with a low moan, her eyes closed. Pale as she was, he didn't think she'd ever looked prettier, though he wasn't about to tell her that. Winry'd probably hit him.

"It wasn't a dream," she mumbled through the soft cotton of the handkerchief.

"I wish I could tell you that it was." Edward ran his hand soothingly up her spine and back down again. Winry's red-eyed gaze turned to meet his. He held it steadily for a few seconds before he had to look away. "C'mon." Getting to his feet, he offered her his hand. "Let's get you home. Everyone's waiting." Edward ignored the funny look Winry gave him as she put her hand in his and he pulled her to her feet.

"Everybody?" She stopped abruptly, the drag at his wrist making Edward jerk back around. "Al." Winry's voice dropped to a hushed whisper. "Ed, you brought him back."

"You remembered?" Edward couldn't help but beam at her awed nod. "He's gonna be so happy to see you." Twisting his hand around hers, he gently tugged, starting her moving again. "Granny, too." A part of him wanted to run, to race home with Winry so he could show them that she was back but another part of him warned him to savor this time together. Soon, he'd be in Central and Edward didn't know when he'd be allowed to return home. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he realized she was staring at him. "What?"

"You're being weird." Winry tugged her hand free, making a little face. "What's going on, Ed?"

He barely had a time to say, "Wha - " before Winry plowed on.

"You're being all…touchy and weird." Her brows furrowed. "You don't hold my hand. You don't hug me." Folding her arms, Winry scowled at him. "What's going on?"

It felt like even his hair was bristling. "I've comforted you in the past!" Edward took a step closer to her. "When you found out about Scar and your parents."

Winry didn't let him say anything more. "You knew and you didn't tell me! I had to find it out with you shouting at him in the streets of Central! Everyone knew, not just me."

"I didn't know for sure! I wanted to find out if he was the one who did it before I told you." Edward snarled back at her. "I didn't want to tell you the wrong thing, Winry, accuse a man who maybe hadn't killed your parents."

"But you thought he'd done it, otherwise you wouldn't have asked him." She reached across the space to poke Edward in the chest.

Edward grabbed her hand to keep her from poking him again. "Someone told me an Ishbalan man with a scar on his face attacked your mom and dad. It wasn't hard to figure out who that could be." Winry tried to pull free again but he held tight. "I didn't want to let you go with Scar, Winry. I was afraid something bad would happen to you." Lowering his head, Edward stared at the ground between them. "I couldn't protect you when it did." His words nearly got lost in the breeze that blew around them, tugging at their hair. "Kimbley tried to use me as a human weapon," Edward tilted his eyes up at her gasp, "but I told him he'd already," his voice hitched over the word, "killed my reasons for cooperating." The fact that he'd nearly died then from the ensuing fight was something he'd share later, Edward decided. "I didn't even know you were alive, Winry, not 'til," he hesitated, not wanting to tell her that he'd nearly beaten Kimbley to death, either. "Not 'til Al told me, when everything was nearly over in Central."

Her face was a kaleidoscope of emotions and Edward took advantage of it, moving nearer, his flesh hand cupping her cheek again. "I missed you." Ducking his head slightly, he kissed her; a quick, light press of his mouth against hers, before retreating to wait for her reaction.

It seemed like she froze for a minute, blue eyes wondering, her free hand trembling as it touched her lips. Edward hoped this was a good sign. It seemed like he'd been waiting years to give Winry a kiss. Selfishly, Edward wanted another, but that would be Winry's decision.

"Where did you learn to kiss, Ed?" Her nose wrinkled and her eyebrows furled down.

"Why? What was," no, there wasn't anything wrong with it. Edward folded his arms, glaring at her. "Why?"

Shaking her head, Winry held up her hands as if to say she was done with this. She turned away from him, starting off for the house. Edward opened his mouth to call her name then jogged after her. "There wasn't anything wrong with that kiss."

"Was that your first kiss, Ed?" Winry glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes.

"No!" Winry had decided, just a few months ago, that she wanted to give kisses to him and Al in the morning and the evening. Okay, so they were kisses on the cheek or forehead but still, that counted. "Don't you remember?" he asked slyly. "You liked it the last time we kissed."

"I what?" She stopped dead and Edward grinned wickedly at the expression on Winry's face. "We've never kissed!"

"So you're saying I'm not a memorable kisser?" Thrilled Winry wasn't carrying her wrench, Edward knew from her glower she'd like to smack him with something hard and heavy. "That is what you're saying, right?"

"Edward Elric." Winry's growl was pretty convincing, though, not to mention her fists planted on her hips let him know she was done playing around. "You and I have never kissed. Not the way you just kissed me." She shook a finger at him. "I'd remember that for sure."

Moving closer, Edward caught hold of Winry's finger, smoothing her palm open. "Would it be a good memory?"

She stared up at him blankly, her mouth open a little bit, as if she'd forgotten what she was about to say. "Good memory?"

"Me kissing you. Would that be a good memory? If you remembered it, I mean." Edward rubbed his thumb over her palm, grinning widely at Winry, wondering what he'd do if she said 'no'.

Winry narrowed her eyes at Edward. "You're being really weird again."

He noticed she didn't pull her hand free. "You're not answering the question."

"Because it's a weird question!" Flinging her free hand out, Winry said, "It's time to go home. I want to see Al."

"So do I." Edward smiled the entire way back to the house, not about to bring up the fact that Winry held his hand the whole time.

* * *

The moon was dipping toward the west, the stars wheeling slowly in their dance across the sky. Edward sat on the porch steps, head tilted back to stare at the constellations above him. He wondered how much he would miss this, being in Central. The air there weren't as clear; the city lights dimmed the night sky. When he and Al had been traveling, there had been nights when they'd camped out and stared up at the stars. Al remembered a lot of the stories about the constellations; Edward recalled only a few.

The screen door opened with its shrill squeal though it didn't pop closed. Craning his head back, Edward smiled slightly at the sight of Winry, holding the screen door so it didn't snap out of her hand and wake everyone up. The familiar scrabbling sound came from inside and, letting out a huff of air, Winry opened the door again for Den. The dog waved her tail, as if in thanks, and trotted down the stairs past Edward and out into the grass. He could hear her sniffing and snorting and wondered what Den would do if she scared up a rabbit.

Shuffling across the porch, Winry sat on the top step, her bare feet resting on the riser that Edward leaned his elbows on. He tapped the top of her foot lightly with a fingertip. "Why aren't you asleep? You've had a long day." It hadn't stopped with them arriving at the house. Once Pinako had realized Winry really was the granddaughter she'd last seen packing up to go to Central to take care of Edward while he was in the hospital and after she'd hugged Winry and cried for a few minutes – and Edward really couldn't remember ever seeing Pinako cry – she called Doc Pettijean to come out. That took some time, as his wife had to track him down and while that was happening but while that was going on, Pinako was performing her own medical tests, enlisting Breda and Edward to run around and collect things for her while Winry sat reluctantly on an exam table, arguing that she was fine and just wanted a shower to wash the river stink off.

Then Doc Pettijean actually arrived and performed the tests all over again and some of his own and Edward was sure Winry was going to start throwing wrenches at anyone who even suggested the word 'exam'. Alphonse was thrilled he wasn't the one being poked and prodded, which did nothing for Winry's mood and Edward hauled his little brother out of the room before blood was shed. Breda had hidden out on the porch with a glass of iced tea, able to play the 'just passing through' card, managing to avoid most of the arguments. Edward almost envied the man.

Forcing Edward to tell the story three times then listening to Winry's version while checking her over, Pettijean had formulated a diagnosis involving a great deal of stress that, in the end, proved to be too much for Winry to take. He believed that Winry had reverted back to a time in her life when things were easier for her. Edward personally thought that if he'd said something like that, Winry would've knocked him sideways but she just frowned a little and kept her opinion to herself. By the time all the tests were run, dusk had fallen and the first stars twinkled in the sky. Pinako had invited Doc Pettijean to stay for supper but he wanted to get home to his wife. He patted Winry on the head, then Alphonse, telling them both to stay out of trouble and drove off in that rattletrap car of his.

Dinner had been hearty rather than fancy but Pinako dragged out one of her jugs of hard cider, offering little glasses of the liquid fire to everyone at the table. Edward remembered out loud that he'd stolen some of the hard cider back when he, Al and Winry were kids and they'd thought they were going to die from hangovers the next day. That led to other stories and needing something to lubricate the throat, and the hard cider went down easier the second time around. Breda loosened up to tell some stories about drinking Mustang under the table and Pinako talked about scaring the automail mechanics in Rush Valley. Alphonse warmed up to the subject enough to tell about some of his and Edward's adventures, particularly about Izumi and her training methods. Edward relented and told about his second trip to Rush Valley and fighting with Ran Fan and Fuu, sparing a thought for Ling and wondering, not for the first time, how his friend might be doing now.

Winry had mostly listened, laughing here and there, but it was obvious that she didn't really want to be the center of attention any more. That much was understandable and Edward had been pleased that everyone seemed to realize it, too, and told light hearted stories rather than asking Winry more questions. That had been something Pettijean suggested rather strongly – that they not ask her what happened to make her regress. When she was ready to remember it and talk about it, he had no doubt that she would.

Edward wasn't quite as sure about that. After all, Winry had hidden her pain about losing her parents for years and Edward had only realized how much she still hurt from that after her first encounter with Scar. It had made him uncomfortable how much he hadn't known about her then and he still felt something of that discomfort now. "With all that cider you drank, I'd think you'd be sawing logs for days."

"Me?" Winry wrinkled her nose at him. "You drank four glasses that I counted. Greedy." She poked at his back with her toes.

"You counted?" He dodged her prodding toes as much as he could without leaving the steps.

"I wanted to see if you'd get sick like you did when we were kids." Winry settled down, wrapping her arms around her bent knees.

"It'd take more than four thimblefuls of hard cider to get me drunk nowadays, Winry." Edward glanced at her out of the corner of his eye but, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable, turned his attention back to the sky.

"You're not wearing your hair in a braid." Winry didn't exactly question but Edward could tell she was curious.

He shrugged lightly. "When the military was looking for a kid with a blond braid," nothing in this world would make Edward mention the phrase 'a short kid', "and a red jacket, I had to change my image a little bit. I guess I got used to it." Even if it was galling that he now had his father's hairstyle, at least Hohenheim hadn't said anything about it when they met up again in Central.

Silence fell over them and Edward wondered if he should suggest Winry go to bed. If she was the same person she'd been yesterday, he wouldn't have considered not suggesting it. He grinned faintly, remembering tucking Winry into bed then his eyes opened wider in alarm at the direction his thoughts took. He wasn't a pervert, Edward reminded himself almost frantically, it was just that Winry was back and he…dammit, he was a pervert, though it wasn't his fault, was it? What man wouldn't react to that cute smile and the way she smelled, all sweet, like flowers, when she'd hug him good night. At least he'd always been able to make a quick retreat from her bedroom before things became too complicated. Edward breathed a sigh of relief that it was dark enough Winry wouldn't see him blushing – not that she could anyway, since he was sitting on the step below her.

Winry shifted her weight a little, making the wooden step she was sitting on sigh. Maybe she was uncomfortable with the silence. "I know all of you want me to remember and I have remembered one thing: That you're going away tomorrow."

Wincing, Edward almost wished she'd stayed quiet, that she hadn't remembered that. Anything but that, though how would it look tomorrow, if he just left with Breda? "I'm still in the military, Winry."

"You were going to quit." It wasn't an accusation, no matter how much he might've wanted it to be.

Lowering his head so his chin rested on his chest, Edward muttered, "I owe it to the bastard and some of the other people to stay in. It's not for too long, Winry." Who was he kidding? Edward knew that Mustang pretty much had him tied to a stake in a yard, what with his own comments about making Amestris a democracy. To do that, strong people were needed and Mustang wanted the Fullmetal Alchemist available. It was almost a wonder he'd been given this much leave, though the bastard wasn't completely heartless. At least he'd waited until Al was able to hobble around on his own before calling Edward to Central. Now, though, with Winry back, it hurt almost too much to go. "I won't let anything keep me away for very long."

There was another long stretch of quiet and Edward wondered if Winry had fallen asleep. The words, "I don't want you to go," almost drifted past him on the cool night breeze and Edward craned his neck to look back at her, to make sure she'd actually spoken. Winry had wrapped her arms around her legs, staring out sightlessly at the road. A little frown marred her brow and the tip of her tongue disappeared behind her lips, letting him know he hadn't imagined her speaking.

It was, he thought, the first time Winry had ever actually said those words to him. "Be careful, don't be an idiot," he was used to hearing those phrases. "I don't want to go, Winry." Edward turned sideways on the step so he could look up at her without straining his neck. "Breda said it wouldn't take long, whatever it is that Mustang wants me to do." He really hoped that was true.

"I don't want to be left alone." Winry went on as if she hadn't heard him. "I don't." She trembled, shivering hard enough for her teeth to chatter.

"Winry." He didn't know what to do now. If she'd been the childlike Winry, Edward would've offered to hold her, or pulled her into his lap from where she sat. Well, maybe that would still work. Moving up to sit next to her, Edward gathered her stiff, shaking body against his chest. "I'm going to come back." He spoke into her hair, resting his chin against her crown.

"Dad and Mom said the same thing but they died." Still trembling, she turned into him enough to pluck at his shirt with her fingers. "And your Mom died." Winry shuddered so hard, she nearly threw off Edward's arms. "And then Scar died, trying to save me, and I was all alone."

Edward tightened his hold on her, swallowing down the anguish he felt from Winry's words. "I'm sorry." That seemed so inadequate but Edward couldn't think of anything else to say.

"…trusted Mr. Kimbley and he lied." Winry punctuated that last word with a jab of her finger to Edward's chest then seemed to realize that might hurt because she petted the spot she'd poked. "Military can't be trusted." When she lifted her head, Edward was surprised her eyes were dry. From the sound of her voice, he thought she'd be crying. It disturbed him more than he thought possible that she wasn't. "I don't want you to go away and not come back."

That was always a possibility and Edward wouldn't lie to Winry and tell her it wasn't a problem. Bowing his head, he rested his forehead against hers. "I'll do my best to come home to you." Her eyes searched his and Edward could see the wounded little girl, the one who'd felt like she'd been abandoned. Words weren't going to be enough this time, he realized, not after everything Winry had been through; the things she was still sorting out in her mind. Tilting his head just a little, Edward pressed his mouth to hers, a tremor shaking through them both and Edward wasn't sure if Winry had shivered or he had. "Don't you know," he whispered to her roughly, "how much I need you?" Tightening his arms around her, Edward murmured, "When Kimbley made those buildings collapse, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I didn't know what to do, how to find you. I thought," his voice cracked but he went on, "I thought I'd lost you and I didn't care, right then, if I lived or died."

Winry stared up at him, eyes widening in surprise then wincing in response to the pain in his voice. Edward felt his throat close up and he leaned his head against her shoulder. His hands roamed her back, a tactile reminder that yes, she was here with him. Blinking hard, Edward raised his head just enough to drop a kiss in the crook of Winry's neck. "I need you, Winry." The words came out a ragged mumble. "I can't tell you how much."

Her arms moved to tighten around him. "You idiot," Winry said, almost in his ear. Her fingers wound into his ponytail, giving it a little tug. Edward thought she might say something more. Instead, her warm breath caressed the side of his neck, below his ear, and her mouth touched his jaw lightly.

Edward knew he shivered this time and a soft whine escaped him in accompaniment. Turning his head, he felt almost blindly for Winry's mouth, rumbling in pleasure when he found it. Their first kisses were stilted, maybe a little too hard or wet but Edward soon discovered what made Winry melt against him. She was a quick study, too, something that didn't surprise him; their lips and tongues and teeth dueling gently. Winry surprised Edward by sucking his lower lip then licking up into his mouth – he wondered where she'd learned that trick but when she shifted her weight, her breasts with their hardened nipples rubbing against his chest, he forgot that he might need to find a local boy and kick his ass for him.

Retreating just a bit, Winry panted hard, her expression soft and wondering. Edward reached out to smooth a strand of her hair back off her face. Warm color swept under his hand, staining her cheeks. Winry ducked her head just a little, her fingers dancing nervously on his shoulders. "Ed," her voice was a nervous whisper, "I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything." Edward laid his hands on her shoulders, running his palms across them before letting his hands fall away. He wanted to keep touching her but if he hurt Winry, well, Edward couldn't even finish that thought in his head. "It's okay, Winry." It wasn't like he hadn't been aroused by her before and taken care of the matter himself.

She huffed, bringing to mind the little girl she'd been yesterday. "I know about it." Winry glowered at him, her lower lip sticking out. "I just…I've never done anything like that."

"Oh." Edward scratched the back of his head, his turn to be embarrassed. "Well…um, neither have I." He felt his own cheeks heat up and he glanced away, back out at the sky. "Not that I haven't wanted to." Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he added, "With you." Though, having to shift his position to relieve the pressure against his penis, Edward thought his interest in her was probably more than obvious. "Ifyouwant."

"If I want what?" Winry still frowned.

"Whatever." Edward shrugged eloquently. "If you just want to sit here, that's fine, if you want to go to bed – I mean, separately!" He held up his hands to ward off any retaliation. "It's your decision, that's what I mean. Whatever you want." He hoped he didn't sound as desperate to her as he sounded to himself.

Winry considered this, pinching her chin with her thumb and forefinger as she thought. She glanced back at the house and stood up slowly, shuffling her feet to avoid the wooden plank that always made a popping sound when someone stood on it. Edward thought for a minute she was going to go back inside but she went down the steps, giving him a look over her shoulder that told him he'd better get up and come with her.

Feeling a stupid grin on his face that he couldn't quite get rid of, Edward scrambled after her, following her out into the yard. She was heading toward the town, her bare feet first damp with dew then crusted with dust as she walked along the dirt road. Neither of them spoke; Edward wasn't sure what to say anymore and Winry didn't seem to be in the mood to talk.

There was a tree almost halfway between the Rockbell house and where the Elric house used to stand. Winry led him there, sitting down on one of the knobby roots that protruded above the ground. The huge oak had been many things when they were children, a base for games, a meeting place and where they'd split up to go to their respective homes. Edward walked around the tree slowly, his flesh hand trailing over the bark. A cicada shell crackled under his fingers and he smiled faintly, remembering Al's fondness for the noisy bugs. He hesitated behind Winry then stepped around her, sitting cross legged on the ground in front of her.

"We fell asleep here once, remember?" He nodded at a patch of soft green moss. "I think our parents were having a picnic. We ran around until we were exhausted."

"When you got mad and said you were going to run away from home, you came here." Winry smiled faintly.

"Pitt fell out of this tree and broke his arm." Edward patted the trunk, like he would the shoulder of an old friend. "I told him he wasn't hanging on tight enough."

"You dared him to climb higher than he should've." Even now, after so many years, Winry scolded him.

Edward showed his teeth at her. "I didn't have to dare him. He was showing off for you."

"Pitt?" Eyebrows rising into her bangs, Winry gave Edward a perplexed look.

"He wasn't the only one." Edward rubbed his flesh foot over the soft moss. "Dale, Pitt, Gerald. Hell," he muttered almost to himself, "I can't think of any guy in our school who didn't show off for you at least once." He raised his head, grinning at her. "You never noticed, not like those other girls." He didn't say that Winry hadn't acted a lot like those other girls; because, sometimes, she did. Even recently, he thought, though he didn't say that, either. "They'd giggle when a guy did something and you'd just yell."

"Showing off usually means you're doing something stupid." She shook her head.

"That's the fun of it." Edward's grin broadened. "If you don't get hurt, you can brag. If you do get hurt, you can brag. And if someone else gets hurt, you can laugh at him for being that stupid." Smile softening, Edward reached up and brushed the tips of his automail fingers along Winry's jaw. This is stupid, he thought, rising slightly to kiss her, but if I get hurt, at least I've done it.

The kiss was tentative, even lighter than the ones they'd been sharing back on the porch. Eyes fluttering closed, Edward tilted his head a little, trying to find the perfect angle. His eyes snapped open again when Winry cupped his cheek, repositioning his head. She met his gaze directly, warmly, and Edward let her do what she wanted. A second later, he was glad he'd done that. Winry knew how to kiss. It was evident in the way her tongue did that little…thing and her lips touched his just like…that and damn, when she sucked on his lower lip, Edward couldn't help but moan.

Her hands were calloused and strong, despite not having worked metal for months. Edward caught her fingers as they trailed over his shoulder, brought her palm up to kiss. Her knuckles were nicked and her fingers rough but to Edward, her hands were beautiful. They'd crafted his limbs, if he thought about it, they'd molded his body, and Edward shivered again as Winry's free hand stroked his neck before her mouth followed the fires her touch left in its wake. Edward was shyer – the sensors in his hand let him know how much pressure he was applying but little else – but Winry encouraged him with little happy sounds.

He particularly liked the one she made when his fingers brushed the side of her breast so he tried that movement again. The accompanying sigh made Edward flush. He could feel his pulse beating through his body, the sensation concentrated in his groin. The thought that he was leaving tomorrow intruded and Edward pulled away from Winry, eyes closing as if in pain, hands clenching to fists. "We," he hated himself for even starting to say it, "shouldn't."

Winry didn't waste time with arguing. Her hands followed him when Edward moved away, landing on his knees and stroking up his thighs. Edward swallowed a gasp as her thumbs passed so close to his groin, he was sure she could feel the radiant heat. She leaned into him, nuzzling his chin, her mouth moving unhurriedly to meet his. Eyelids sinking closed, Edward gave up the fight. Winry usually won them anyway, why should this be an exception?

Her tongue parted his lips, gently leading Edward in this dance. He followed with only a second's hesitation. Winry's lips were warm and sweet and Edward slipped his tongue past the ivory gate of her teeth, stroking the roof of her mouth. He could feel her hands, the pressure of her thumbs against his hipbones. Shoulders bumping, wriggling into new positions, Edward gasped into her mouth at the feel of her body pressing into his chest. Winry broke away from his mouth to pepper kisses along his jaw. Hand shaking – and why would it tremble at this when he'd been through so much more frightening encounters in the past? – Edward slipped it between their bodies, cupping the underside of Winry's breast with his flesh hand. She moaned but before Edward could take his hand away, not sure if he'd hurt her or not, Winry leaned into his hand, kissing him more intently, stealing his breath away. Realizing through a haze that it must mean he was doing something right, Edward touched her other breast more tentatively, worried that his automail hand might do damage to tender flesh. Winry hummed into his mouth in delight, fingers sweeping across his hip to scratch at his stomach.

Edward hissed through his teeth, hips jutting forward in reaction to her touch. Her fingers were so close and he swore her palm had to be burning from the heat at his groin. A soft bubble of laughter escaped Winry, one that grew louder when Edward shot her a hot look. "Do you want me to touch you, Ed?" Her thumb brushed over the button of his fly, rotating around it. His gaze fixed on that digit and the unspoken promise of its circling. Words failed him and Edward could only nod, his eyes huge as he lifted them to meet Winry's. He'd never seen her wear that smile before; sweet and wicked, and he thought he'd explode when she tugged at the fly of his trousers, sliding the button back through the hole.

"Lie down," Winry whispered, her breath ghosting across his skin, making Edward shiver. He couldn't seem to think for himself any more, his hands sliding down to her hips. His body begged him to do something, anything, but Edward, for once, couldn't seem to make a decision what to do. Unzipping his trousers, Winry peeled them open. Her palms slid up his chest, away from the parts of his body Edward desperately wanted her to touch, sliding under his shirt. He realized, a little dumbfounded, that she wanted him completely unclothed and, with a little whine that she was making him sit up, Edward skinned out of his shirt, tossing it to land somewhere in the roots of the tree. He sank back to the ground, tugging at the hem of Winry's shirt, wanting to see her, too. That little wicked grin still playing about her mouth, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head.

Edward's mouth went completely dry at the sight of her nearly naked torso. Hands rising of their own volition, he skimmed them up over her belly, reaching for her breasts. Even in the slick fabric of her brassiere, they felt amazing. He couldn't quite believe that he was touching them, though the throbbing in his penis told him otherwise. Swallowing, Edward murmured, "Winry," as if her name was a prayer. His thumbs brushed over her jutting nipples, making her back arch and her eyes close.

Winry balanced with one hand pressed against the center of her chest, the other sliding between her thighs. Edward tracked that movement, his breath catching in his throat. Even though Winry still wore her shorts, he found himself fascinated by her fingers, the way they circled down below the zipper. His hands almost forgot what they were doing with her breasts until she grumbled out his name in reminder. With an embarrassed giggle, Edward moved his hands up to her shoulders, pulling the straps of her bra down her arms. That gave him a little better contact, he thought, though Winry took matters into her own hands again, reaching behind her to unhook the brassiere completely. It joined his shirt, Edward guessed, because he wasn't sure what happened to it once she took it off. His hands moved to her chest again, the sensors in his automail registering the weight of her breast in his palm. He tweaked her nipples, trying to remember how he touched himself and what he liked when he did, even though, right now, it was really difficult. Translating it to a girl's body was even harder but at least they had some of the same parts, even if they were configured differently.

Before he could even test his theory, Winry dipped her hand into the opening of his trousers. She palmed his penis through the soft cotton of his boxers. Edward's hips jerked up at that contact, a startled grunt slipping out of his mouth. His hands moved spasmodically on her breasts, his attention now focused completely on what she was going to do with his cock. All coherent thought fled as her fingers slid through the y-front of his underwear, touching him directly. "Hnng!"

It didn't take much encouragement for Edward to shove his trousers and underwear down past his hips and thighs, kicking them the rest of the way off, though he felt remarkably shy afterward. He tried to cover it by giving Winry a cocky grin, tucking his hands behind his head. "See anything you like?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Edward felt like slapping his forehead.

Winry gave him that look that warned him to shut up or else. Edward obeyed, closing his mouth, at least until she wrapped her fingers around the shaft of his cock. A moan tore free from his throat at the sensation of her strong, calloused hand stroking him. Her hand moved, exploring; weighing his sac, tugging lightly at his foreskin, rubbing her thumb over his slit and the pre-cum pearling out of it. Watching in stunned delight as Winry sucked her thumb clean, Edward almost thought he'd come then. She leaned over him, her hardened nipples trailing over his chest, the ends of her hair tickling his skin. Edward shivered and Winry kissed him, long and slow. He smoothed his hands over her back, a long steady stroke that stopped for his flesh hand in the center of her back, for his automail hand cautiously on her backside. He wanted, oh, Edward knew what he wanted, he thought he almost be able to offer up the number of months, weeks, days, hours and minutes that had past since he first realized exactly how he felt for Winry – and more specifically, what he wanted to do about it.

Both hands cupping her backside, Edward squeezed, wanting to know what she'd feel like without those clothes in the way. Winry kissed him before he could get the question out, leaving him breathlessly distracted when she drew back a little bit. Nuzzling her cheek, Edward lipped the lobe of Winry's ear, the tip of his tongue curling around the jewelry there. His jewelry, he thought with pride, even if he had picked out the pieces solely to avoid getting clobbered by a wrench. "Winry," he breathed into her ear, feeling her shiver. "Please touch me, Winry. Show me," Edward exhaled, stirring the fine hairs next to her temple, "show me how you want to be touched."

Even in the shadows under that oak tree, Winry's eyes were luminous. She smiled, pushing herself up and away from Edward. He protested with a little whine, his hands moving to her hips then falling from her body as she knelt up, undoing her shorts and pushing them down over her hips. Edward let out a low sigh as she kicked the last of her clothing off, walking her knees over his legs so she straddled his hips. Fingers flexing, Edward raised his hands, stroking up her thighs as she stood on her knees over him. Some conscious part, not overwhelmed by the sight above him, thought that Pinako would kill him if she thought this was going on. It wasn't enough to cool his ardor and Edward brought his left hand slowly across Winry's stomach, his palm brushing over the sparse blond curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Winry arched into that touch, her back bowing. Edward suddenly wished he'd paid more attention when older men talked about their sexual conquests, even though they always made it sound so sordid. He really didn't have a clue what to do next. He'd read up on the human body – had to, after all, he'd tried to bring his mother back to life and he'd wanted to make sure she had all her working parts. What he'd learned from those books was absolutely useless to him right now.

As if she realized, Winry sank down on top of him. The head of his cock just peeped out beneath her curls, bulbous and rosy. Edward shuddered at the sensation of Winry's flesh cradling his, how moist she felt, pressed against him like that. Winry shifted her weight, flexing her hips, and Edward's eyes nearly rolled back into his head. It wasn't penetration; instead, with a roll of her hips, Winry slid herself along his shaft and back.

Edward arched against her as she rocked on top of him. She was so hot and wet and moved over him almost to the same tempo as his heartbeat. Left hand braced on his chest to help her keep her balance, Winry reached to take his flesh hand in her right, guiding his fingers into her nest of curls. "Feel that?" Her voice was low pitched and husky, and sent a thrill running through Edward's spine.

Unable to speak, Edward nodded, trying to catch his breath. Winry slid up his shaft again, adding a little wiggle into the end of the movement and making him groan. His fingers moved under hers, tentatively petting the little pearl of flesh she'd guided him to. Winry's breathy sigh encouraged him to increase the pressure of his fingers and a swell of pride rolled through him when she took her hand away.

Reaching behind her with her free hand, her fingers tickled his sac. Teeth gritting at that touch, Edward jerked up against Winry, eyes squeezing shut. Stars exploded behind his closed lids and his automail hand clenched into the moss beneath his body. He grunted through his teeth, feeling something hot stripe across his stomach. "W-Winry." Edward gasped.

She licked her lips, her eyes closed, hips still rocking. Edward fumbled to keep his fingers in place against her; she was so slick now. He stared up into her face, seeing her bite her lip then lick it. Her pale skin flushed and her nipples jutted out stiffly. Edward curled his body up, kissing Winry hungrily. His flesh hand was caught between their bodies and her hips slammed into his, almost hard enough to bruise.

Winry moaned into his mouth, her hips crashing against his again. Her eyes snapped open, her body stiffening, a tremor running through her. Edward wrapped his automail arm around her, supporting her, his flesh fingers catching hold of Winry's clitoris, squeezing it.

Edward swallowed her cries, holding her as she shuddered. Slowly, slowly, her body relaxed and she slumped against him, her forehead pillowed against his shoulder. Kissing her sweaty temple, Edward gently extracted his hand from between their bodies. Perspiration glued their skin together, he realized, grinning at their predicament. "Winry?"

"Mm?" She sounded drowsy; relaxed.

Kissing her cheek, Edward went on to nuzzle her ear. "I'm sorry, Winry, but we need to get dressed and go home. I don't want old man Nedobeck finding my naked ass in his pasture, you know?" Despite his words, he hugged her close, burying his face in her hair.

"Probably found worse before, if Granny's telling the truth." Still, with an obvious reluctance, Winry leaned back a bit, hissing when her skin pulled free from Edward's. Rubbing her hand over her stomach, she made a face. "Eww. Ed, you're sticky. Why are boys so messy at this?" She scrubbed her hand on the nearest tree root.

"That's not my fault. It's a matter of biology." Edward tried to sound learned but just came off cranky.

"Whatever." Winry rolled her eyes, peeling herself off of Edward's lap. "Eww, now I just want a shower."

"'Eww'?" Scrambling to his feet, Edward started gathering up his clothing. "One of the best moments of my life and you say, 'eww'?" Grumbling under his breath, he tugged his shirt on, searching for his boxers. "'Eww'. You didn't say that when we were…doing," words failed him and he blushed hotly, hoping Winry wouldn't notice. "That!" Edward found his boxers and snatched them up, stepping into them.

"That's before I found out how messy you'd be!" Winry spun around, her hair fanning out as she turned.

"It's not gonna be any different with any other guy." Edward found Winry's panties by catching them on his foot and he lifted them up, plucking them from his toes. "I think these are yours." With an inarticulate growl, Winry nabbed her underwear, turning back around to put them on. Edward restrained himself from saying anything about that, but just barely.

"I still want a shower." Winry found a shirt and threw it at Edward. Catching the garment, Edward started to pull it over his head but got lost halfway through the process, thinking about Winry in a shower, soap tracing along her curves. "Are you imagining me naked?" Her voice jolted him into moving again.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Edward tugged his ponytail out of the collar of his shirt. "Look at you!" He waved a hand at her. "You're almost naked now. You were naked just a few seconds ago. And," his eyes traced her figure, wishing that the moon was brighter, that what little light they had wasn't filtering through the leaves of a tree. "You're really pretty."

Twisting to look over her shoulder, Winry whispered, "You think I'm pretty?"

Edward nodded, deliberately slow. "Always." Moving closer, he laid his hands on Winry's shoulders, stroking her collarbone with his thumbs. Though he was taller than her now, he still had to tilt his chin up to kiss her forehead. "Even when you were a little girl."

The sound could've been a sob or a laugh, Edward wasn't sure which, but Winry plastered herself to him, her arms wrapped tight around his waist. She wasn't crying; Edward knew what Winry crying felt like, but she didn't seem all that happy, either. How did men figure out what women wanted, anyway? "Winry?" He stroked her hair tentatively with his flesh hand. "Are you okay?"

When she nodded, her cheek brushed his. "We should go." Winry hugged him tight, an oxymoron to her words then, almost reluctantly, it seemed, loosened her grip and stepped back. When she lifted her head to meet his eyes, Edward could see her smile. It seemed like she was leaning toward him or maybe he was leaning toward her but their lips met, soft and warm, an unspoken promise. When they pulled apart, Edward stroked her cheek with the tips of his automail fingers. "It's not going to be forever," he found himself saying, wondering how he could leave her, how he could leave Al, and knowing the answer already.

* * *

"Letter for you, boss." Breda tossed the envelope onto Edward's desk, jerking him out of a boredom-induced doze. "Don't let Captain Hawkeye catch you napping."

"I won't." Edward waved a languid hand, thinking that if the office was a little cooler, it wouldn't be so hard to stay awake. That thought segued into, if he was out doing something, rather than chained behind a desk, it wouldn't be hard to stay awake. This was not what he'd expected when Mustang called him back to Central. When he'd brought that up – okay, so some would call it bitching – Mustang had shrugged in response and pointed out his commanders were breathing down his neck and he needed some way to get them off his back. If that meant throwing the Fullmetal Alchemist to the wolves, so be it.

Using his steel pinky, Edward slit open the top of the envelope. It was a personal letter, he shouldn't be reading it at work and he knew it, but he needed something to break the monotony of paperwork. Two pages spilled out, Al's unmistakable, impossibly neat handwriting marking the paper. Tossing the empty envelope back on top of the other papers, Edward unfolded the letter, hooking his foot up on top of a desk drawer, and began to read.

Al wrote about his new kitten, that Den had brought home from somewhere. The kitten had no name as of yet, which seemed to bother Al a lot, by the length of the paragraph and accompanying sketch of the cat. Another paragraph was devoted to the upcoming harvest festival, with a reminder that Edward should come home for it; Granny Pinako said this batch of hard cider was her best yet and, 'Remind your brother that he's finally old enough to drink it.'

"Old hag." Edward flipped the page over, reading about canning tomatoes and pumpkins; making applesauce out of the early apples. Al mentioned that Winry cooked up a batch of caramel to dip some of the apples in and wrote, far too candidly, Edward thought, that Winry licking the spoon clean afterward was terribly distracting.

Alphonse wrote, _Pitt's back in Rezembool; he said he came for the festival. He said he's not apprenticed to that doctor any more but he's still studying medicine. He wants to come back and practice in Rezembool. Dr. Pettijean offered to take him on until he gets into school; maybe in the spring. Pitt's still flirting with Winry but she doesn't seem to notice – I don't think she notices anyone flirting with her, really. We three have gone out a few times, a picnic under that huge oak on Mr. Nedobeck's farm; fishing at the river. You read that right, Brother, I went to the oak and to the river and I did it on my own feet. Granny Pinako and Dr. Pettijean say I've improved a lot over the past three months. Winry teases me and says it's because I have a girlfriend and I tease her back and tell her she's the only girl for me._

Edward glanced up to see if anyone was paying any attention. So far, Breda was preoccupied with some paperwork of his own and Fahlman was on the telephone, nodding in accompaniment to his "yessirs". At least the office was only big enough for three; Edward knew if Hawkeye was assigned to the room, he'd have been ripped a new one for reading a personal letter. Flipping to the second page, he continued reading.

_I've thought about it a lot over the past few months, too. Not that I should get a girlfriend, Brother, don't panic just yet, but that we really should've treated Winry better. It's almost like we took her for granted. It's weird, thinking that she's always stood by us, no matter what, yelled at us and healed us, and we haven't been there for her. I can't help but wonder if I'd just taken some time, would she have been strong enough to bear the aftermath of what happened with Scar? I'm afraid to ask her so I won't, but it still bothers me._

Squirming in his chair, Edward had to glance away from his brother's words. He hated thinking that he was afraid to ask Winry about that time, too. The fact that he'd left Rezembool the day after Winry's recovery had nothing to do with it. He could've asked during any of the brief telephone calls he'd made to check up on Al; he could've said something. It wasn't the only thing he'd avoided talking to Winry about, Edward reminded himself. Forcing his gaze back to the letter, he shoved his guilt aside, locking it up to deal with later.

_I guess I always knew it, somewhere deep inside, but since you've been gone, since Winry's come back to herself, I actually realized how much we've leaned on her in the past. I know I'm doing it now. This is the first time you and I've been separated for this long and it feels so weird, waking up in the night and knowing you're not here in the house with me. And I think how Winry went for four years without knowing where we were; not even knowing if we were alive; how we just went off and left her and Granny Pinako without any phone calls or letters – and if it weren't for what happened at Lab Five, would we have called Winry then? Maybe if you hadn't, some of what happened to her afterwards wouldn't have happened but would that have been for the better or the worse? I know what you're thinking, Brother, that Winry safe in Rezembool would've been far better than her traveling with Scar, but if she hadn't been with us in Rush Valley, Satira and her baby may not have survived._

_What I'm trying to say, Brother, is I miss you terribly and then I look at Winry and think how much she must have missed us while we were gone. How much pain she hid from us after her parents died. And yet, she goes on, with a smile on her face and a kind word for nearly everyone, even me when I'm grouchy and whining and wishing you were here. She just says that you're busy, you'll call or write when you can, and come as soon as you're able, and I realize just how much stronger she is than I am, how much stronger she is than both of us._

_That doesn't change the fact that I need you, Brother, nor that Winry needs you, even if she's better at going through her life without you underfoot._

_Come home. We miss you._

_Alphonse_

Folding the sheets of paper, Edward slid them carefully back into the envelope, tucking the letter into the inside pocket of his uniform. His mouth turned down as he stared at the desktop, paperwork strewn across it. For an instant, he understood Mustang's fantasies about setting his paperwork ablaze. Requisitions to be approved, reports to be read, none of it made any sense any more. Edward gathered them all together thoughtfully, scribbling his signature on those that actually warranted his attention, placing the others in a pile to the left. Working steadily, he went through the stack of papers in his inbox, signing off on one last requisition with a flourish.

"Finished, boss?" Breda glanced over as Edward pushed back from the desk.

"Almost." Edward stretched his back, hands pushed high above his head. He twisted his torso from side to side, taking a deep breath and touching his palms together. Ignoring the surprised shouts from the other two men when he transmuted the stack of papers to the left of his desk blotter into a paper dragon, Edward tossed them both a salute. "Now," he said, heading for the door, tearing open the collar of the uniform he'd come to loathe, "I'm done."

* * *

The train ride from Central City to Rezembool seemed to take centuries. Edward fidgeted the whole trip, pacing from car to car to car; unable to sit still. He almost wished for a hijacking attempt, just to pass the time. Resigning from the military had been amazingly easy – though Mustang said he wanted to prolong Edward's misery, at least until Edward threatened to expose who Bunny really was; not to mention Jacqueline, Elizabeth and Katherine. He was still surprised that threat worked but decided not to think on that too much. The bastard signed the papers, muttering all the while about terrorist tactics while Hawkeye witnessed.

The bastard's final words lingered longer than Edward wanted them to and he shook his head at them again: "You will invite me to the wedding, right, Fullmetal?" He wasn't planning on marrying…well, not yet. First, he had some things to prove; mostly to himself, Edward admitted freely in his mind. He didn't think Winry needed any more proof than the sight of him, walking up the road, coming home to her.

* * *

_end_


End file.
